Chapter 53: Origin of Tragedy

We'd been journeying for what Crookedjaw described as days. Each day I could feel us drawing closer. Somehow, I knew whatever we found would change how we saw the Darkforest entirely. Crookedjaw had just made his nightly appearance when I noticed something. Usually, each spot we camped out at grew a couple tail lengths over the course of the day, but tonight, it hadn't.

I brought my face close to the ground to get a more accurate reading on what was going on. Something was fighting my creation from spreading. What I sensed was not necessarily more powerful than my creation but instead seemed to have some kind of source fueling the ongoing fight. My creation might gain ground eventually, but it would lose in the long run due to using up its resources. This is how I knew we were close and that it was big.

I no longer needed to rough guess which direction would point us toward the source. The intent hung heavy in the air. It left Crookedjaw uneasy, Splitpelt with aching joints, and me with the feeling of cold darkness like those fading moments before unconsciousness. I was forced to topple a mess of trees in our path when I spotted it, and somehow it explained everything.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing, yet there it was in all its horrific glory. It was something I believed would never exist here, something I believed unholy. Almost as if to taunt us, it stood in a clearing of sulfuric oily mud scratching into the sky like the skeleton of some fallen god. Around it were crude likenesses made from decaying stone where the foul creation was likely worshiped. Despite the inability for things in the Darkforest to leave behind true corpses, bones of cats littered the clearing. Bleached white by a nonexistant sun, the bones held faint cracks from which more of the tar like ooze leaked out. This abomination on existence was the inspiration behind the murky foul intent that covered the Darkforest, and if I wasn't prepared soon, its foul purpose would be fulfilled once again. There in the center of the clearing was what I swore to destroy. It was an obelisk.

I growled at the thing in pure rage. This thing was never meant to exist, and judging from what surrounded us, it could only lead to ruin. The obelisk, prophet of ruin, was an unthinking evil providing a clear path on which cats blindly followed. Crookedjaw seemed mystified and terrified of the thing given my reaction, but he brought himself close to investigate it. Before he could touch it, I intervened with a yowl.

"Don't touch that! It can't do anything while no cat touches it."

Crookedjaw reeled back and stammered, "What is it?"

Crookedjaw's fear suppressed my rage as I now felt the need to comfort him. "Sorry for yowling, but that thing is evil. What Starclan and I call this thing is an obelisk. It has a terrible power to both prophesize the future and influence the world of the living."

Crookedjaw tilted his head confused. "Prophecy doesn't sound that evil, and I'd trust you to influence the living world."

I shook my head discouragingly. "That is where it gets you. The corpes here are from cats who followed and worshiped this thing, but they didn't understand the future. You see, as I've discovered, prophecy is more of a suggestion instead of an absolute. The obelisk provides an easy path by showing one future and the path to receive it, but in their efforts to utilize prophecy, they forgot the purpose. Soon enough, they began doing things to ensure prophecies came to pass even if the prophecy was a foul future. They believed their purpose was to fulfil the prophecies instead of use them to choose a different path. Then the obelisk prophesized an apocalypse and the souls who worshiped it provided one."

Crookedjaw stood in terror of the obelisk not even a clearing's length away from us. "How… How do you know this?" he asked with a trembling voice.

I let out a sigh. He deserved to know despite how terrifying the truth actually was. "Because this isn't the only one. Right now in Starclan exists an obelisk, and they've already found its last prophecy. As far as I can tell, it is still a decent ways off, but it'll happen within two to three lifetimes starting with the emergence of fire. What that means, I do not know. Your clan will have a severe famine which will leave your clan weak and kill many. Your brother will be Oakstar, but he'll cave under the responsibility. Death will run rampant through the forest."

"Then… What do we do?" asked Crookedjaw.

Splitpelt gave me a knowing look before mewing, "we have the makings of a plan."

I let out a huff. I really didn't want it to come to this, but it might have become a necessity. "I don't want you to feel forced into this, but as I said, prophecy is just a suggestion. Once I do anything, Starclan will push back hard because they want to follow the prophecy. What I want to do would put you heavily under Starclan's scrutiny. The only way to keep going may be to publicly denounce me to keep within their favor."

I paused unable to bring out the words any further. It felt like I was choking on my words. I could only look at Crookedjaw with a mixture of worry and sadness.

"Mom, you can trust me. I want to do this, for you and my clan."

I solemnly nodded before continuing. "What the plan involves… is you replacing Oakheart as leader. You can handle more stress than he can. Once you become the leader, you'd appoint your brother as deputy to make Starclan think their plan is still on track. Starclan might ask you to do terrible things, and you'd have to at least pretend to obey. What I'm asking of you, I don't wish on any cat. You can still back out."

"Mother, I can do it. I do want to do it, for my brother, clan, and you. So how do we start?"

I felt years older, but I pulled myself together enough to continue. The edeputy of your clan will not outlive your leader. When he dies, I'll fake a sign with that." I said gesturing to the obelisk. "Then it is all up to you. Starclan will be haunting your dreams, so you won't be able to come here anymore unless it is an emergency. I… don't want to do this, but I think we have to. Once things have been set into motion, I'll miss you dearly."

"I know mother. I'll miss you too. We'll just have to enjoy the rest of the tome we've got."

Before we departed, I constructed a bubble exactly like Skystar's. The last thing we needed was another cult dedicated to an obelisk in the Darkforest. I hoped I could use that thing as sparingly as possible, but I knew the sight of that clearing would forever be burned into my mind showing what the repercussions of failure would be. At least, I'd have an interesting story for Frecklewish and our coming kits.