Beginning Sparks

by Goldenfeather88

Rusty always knew that something was off about him. That the kittypet life was never for him. And yet, he is unsure on what to do. The forest seems to call his name... Yet, he wants to be with his family and there are those strange spirits he keeps seeing...

3. The Bright of Family

Chapter 2: The Bright of Family

"Father…. Father! Wake up!"

"Now Fiona… Be patient! He will be up in a moment!"

"But Sir Juliet! It's important!"

"Now, Fiona!"

"Yes, Sir Juliet…"

He sighed as he heard the voices of his best friend and his only daughter from outside the den. Wanting nothing more than to stuff moss into his ears, he also knew that if he didn't get up, a certain someone was going to come in and get him out.

"All right, Dreamweaver! Enough sleeping! You know that you have a job to do today!"

Well, speak of the devil. The tom heard his friend's soft pawsteps as her scent entered his nose. His ears flicked as her warm breath brushed over his face. He covered his face with a paw as he groaned, feeling the webs shaking at her playful behavior.

"Juliet… No need for all this…" he stated, shaking his head while keeping his eye closed. "I'm awake!"

"Then get up, lazy bones!" Juliet playfully hissed, poking him on the side. "You know that Michael wants your help today, so get moving!"

Without warning, Dreamweaver felt himself being flipped over by Juliet onto his belly. He just rolled with it, settling into a crouched position, tail waving with annoyance and eye open.

"Juliet!" Dreamweaver growled, flicking his ears in her direction and shaking the now ruined webs off of his fur. "Enough! I'm up!"

"Then come on, silly!" Juliet laughed as she pranced around him, the metal of her collar making a faint clicking noise as it bounced off of her chest fur. "The day is young and there is so much to do! Prey to hunt, places to check out… I even heard that Lord Arthur and Sir Ada are talking about another boar hunt! Maybe we will get chosen for it!"

"Maybe you will!" Dreamweaver snapped bitterly, stretching out his back muscles then his legs. "As you have a useful ability and are a decent fighter when you want to be… Me though? A cat that had to go through a longer pageship than others? Someone that would be at a disadvantage during such a hunt? There is no way!"

"Besides, my ability is not useful in a fight," he added as he fixed his own cloth collar, feeling the metal place settle in place. "I 'see' what goes on in other cats' dreams… Which is only good when I am asleep… And it is not like anyone remembers what goes on in their dreams… Except me… But still not good for hunting nor fighting…"

"Dreamweaver…" mewed Juliet, a paw touching his face carefully. "No matter what some of the others say, you are not useless! Sure, you may have to handle things differently than some of us, but you also have skills that few have… We just have to find a way to show your strength so that everyone can see it! Besides, no matter what, you are family! Rose, Ada, and Michael all love you like blood, and you are my best friend! Just remember this… You are no less a Knight than anyone else!"

"Thanks," muttered Dreamweaver, not really feeling any better. "Though sometimes I wonder if a cat like me even deserves anything…"

"Oh Dreamy," said Juliet, purring with sadness. "Don't think like that! I believe that you will find someone that will love you with all their heart, unsightly scar and all. Now…" Dreamweaver heard her voice change to a happier tune. "Let's forget all this sadness for now and grab something to eat…. And see what your silly daughter wants."

"Oh… So my child is silly!" Dreamweaver stated with a snort of amusement, burying his dark thoughts for now. "And yet… YOU are the one that has six little brats running around! Well, make that five of them are brats. Algar has some sense in his head for his age! Also… Don't call me Dreamy!"

"At least mine are not little trickers, Dreamy boy!" Juliet snapped back playfully. "Seriously… Those three boys of yours keep tricking their mentors by…"

As Juliet rambled on, they had stepped into the main clearing for the Knights. Dreamweaver flicked his ears as he took in everything around him. He felt the heat of the day on his pelt from the few rays of sunlight that broke through the canopy above and sighed in happiness. The usual scent of musty, decaying leaves and wet moss was overshadowed by the smoke from the cooking fires that bellowed towards him. He caught the hint of roasting meat and fish on the wind and imagined the crackle and sizzle of the former prey as it roasted on the hard stone.

"Great…" Dreamweaver mentally moaned as he thought of the food. "Now I'm hungry! Maybe after I visit that young molly I will grab a bite to eat… Before I have to go…"

To get his mind off of food, he began to focus on what was around him. He heard the chattering of several of the History Speakers telling their stories into the ears of the eager, tones rising and falling with each part. The fluttering of wings told of both Batty and Avis's arrival: Avis's feathery wingbeats and heavy landing masked Batty's almost silent and gentle landing. Micheal, his dear father, was chatting with Boyce and Panther. Dreamweaver also could hear his three troublesome sons hanging out with the four daughters of Juliet's litter while Algar, Baldwin, and his dear niece Shyla were play-fighting.

All around him were the sounds and scents of Knights: his friends, his family, his community.

"My life may not be perfect," Dreamweaver thought with a smile. "But… This must be what the Heavenly Guard is like on Earth… And there is nowhere else where I would rather be! This is… This is my home! No matter what, this is where I belong!"

"Father!"

Dreamweaver heard the warning just in time to brace himself for his excitable daughter attack. Juliet let loose a giggle as Fiona purred and rubbed her face into his back fur. Dreamweaver returned her affection by burying his nose in her unusual mane and breathing in her smoky scent.

"Fiona my dear," he purred. "Looks like you have been bugging the cooks again! You haven't been a pest, have you?"

"Maybe?" Fiona answered back shamefully. "But Father… I can't help it! The sights! The smells! Oh Father, I wish that you could see it! The way that they separate the flesh from fur, feather, or scales! Or the way that they so carefully slice the meat into thin strips before placing onto the cooking rock! Or how they save the bones and fat in order to…"

"Okay, enough!" laughed Juliet. "We get it! You are interested in cooking! And that is fine! But.. Why did you need to see your dad?"

"Oh! That is right!" Fiona exclaimed. "Thank you for reminding me, Sir Juliet! Father… Sir Ada and Lord Arthur want to see you! Said that it is very important!"

"Thank you my dear," Dreamweaver replied, licking the top of her head. "I will head over there right away. Now, don't give Badger a hard time, all right?"

"Hey!" Fiona protested. "I'm not the troublemaker! That is my brothers!"

With a laugh, Dreamweaver flicked Fiona's ear with his long, bushy tail as he left. Weaving through the moving cats around the clearing, Dreamweaver picked up his older sister's trail and began to follow it.

"I wonder what Ada and Lord Arthur want?" he wondered as he continued to follow the trail out of the main clearing. "Is it about the mission to find Spark? Or… Something else? I can't think of anything else that would be so important…"

Ada's scent made his nose burn with the sterility that popped out of the usual earth and smoke mixture with the hint of strangeness that came with being of Marked descent, but he ignored it. She wanted no kits: it was her choice. Privately, Dreamweaver thought that she was both bold and brave for her decision: not everyone could just walk into what many considered the lion's den.

"Well… That is just Ada for you!" Dreamweaver thought with a snort. "Stubborn, wants things her way… And very loyal! She isn't known as the Loyal Tyrant for nothing! She is one cat that no one should want to be on her bad side."

Soon, Dreamweaver found himself in front of a small stone building. He knew from what the others had told me that this place was built into the side of thick tree, with the main den being under the roots. However, that failed to matter to Dreamweaver at the as he felt his whiskers touched the mossy stone.

"Lord Arthur… Sir Ada," he called out after he found the entrance. "Permission to enter?"

"Please do!" Answered a strong voice, "We are in the main den, Sir Dreamweaver. Please join us!"

Dreamweaver nodded as he walked into the building, following Ada's sterile scent. Soon, the stone floor turned to hard, compact dirt under his paws. The weight of what could happen hung on his shoulders as he walked into the main den. The warmth of the candles and the mixed scent of ink and faded paper hit him as he put his nose towards the ground, curling up his left front leg as the other lay before him, claws sheathed.

"My Lord," Dreamweaver began, keeping his head low. "The Eternal Leader, the King of the Brits, the Undying Lord… I stand in your presence, and I hear you."

"And in return," a thin, reedy voice called back as the sounds of flipping pages echoed the chamber. "I see you, Sir Dreamweaver, the Hidden Sight, Squire of the Knights. The only son of Sir Michael, the Stubborn Fighter, and his love Petal, a house cat. Brother to Sir Ada, Sir Rose, and Miss Nutmeg… Father to the current Pages Fiona, Jay, Tay, and Lay… Is this all correct?"

"Yes, my Lord," Dreamweaver answered back, failing to keep the nerves out of his voice. "All of what you have stated is true and correct."

A cough then a thin laugh bounced around the den causing Dreamweaver to fear that he failed. However, that was when he noticed a third scent, herbs mixed with a woodland forest and the ever-present smell that followed those of Marked descent.

"There is no need for nervousness, young tom," laughed Arthur. "You are not in trouble at all… In fact… There is something that we want to ask of you. Sir Ada, if you please."

"Of course, my Lord," his sister purred before her voice became stern as usual. "Now Dreamweaver… Remember the young molly that you save this winter from that fox?"

"Yes Sir," Dreamweaver answered as he turned toward the odd scent out. "Speaking of which… How are you? Healing well?"

"Yes," a timid, tiny voice. "I am well… All things considered…"

Dreamweaver sighed as he fought off the need to go over and wrap his fluffy tail around the young molly and just sat down beside her. He knew that the road to recovery would not be an easy one: the world was harder still on those that had a disability. This poor young molly was now forced to live with three: missing an eye, the loss of half of her tail, and, the most important thing lost, most of her left front leg. All because a fox decided that a young cat looked like a tasty treat… And the failure of her family to even look for her.

"Those stupid clan cats!" he thought bitterly, imagining digging his fangs into some foolish clan cat. "How can they live with themselves? First off, what they did to my mother! And now… This? Leaving a young cat to bleed to death? Not even trying to find her, even if it was just her body, her flesh, her bones? Will their crimes ever end?"

"…Dreamweaver, snap out of it!"

"Sorry, Sir Ada," muttered Dreamweaver, bowing his head in shame. "I… I let myself get lost in my thoughts…"

"It's fine," sighed Ada, the rustling of her fur showing him that she was shaking her head. "Lord knows that we of all cats have the right for anger… But remember… We can't let our anger control us: we control it!"

"Anger is to be used as a tool in situations where there is no other choice to survive," Lord Arthur added in sadly. "And even then… It's just so others can survive on…"

"I understand, my lord," Dreamweaver answered, keeping his head and ears low. "I will control my anger better…"

"Dreamweaver, stand up!" ordered Arthur, tone strengthening with tone and volume. "We are not here to judge you: everyone has their problems and weaknesses! That is just life young tom! And we have seen your dedication and determination to prove yourself to the Knights even in spite of your… difficulties."

"And in light of these facts," Ada continued on. "We have decided that young Cherry, the cat you helped saved, until the day she decides to either fully join us, go back to her clan, or go a different path, should be your Page!"

"Thank you for the honor, my lord," replied Dreamweaver, mouth going dry, heart pounding in his chest. "But… Are you sure that I am ready? That I can do it?"

"Even though there are still cats that shame me?" he added mentally. "For being a 'weaking'? And… There are other cats that could teach her. Like my old mentor Dante. He is good at teaching and is known as the Teacher willing to take on any challenge!"

"Oh, young one," Dreamweaver heard Arthur sigh. "You need to have a little more faith in yourself! If I didn't think that you were ready, we wouldn't have offered! And… We have another Page planed for your former mentor… Er… Ada?"

"Dante, my lord," Ada responded to Arthur's sudden confusion. "My brother's former mentor is named Dante."

"Er… Right," Arthur answered with a sigh. "Dante… Well, we have an idea for a different Page for him… Should that cat be willing to join us…"

"Oh, right," Dreamweaver thought to himself. "Rusty… Okay, I can see that. Rusty would need that support after being attacked by those house cats…"

"Brother… You saved this young cat, brought her here for treatment," Ada spoke, voice targeted straight at him. "Then, any chance you got, you visited her, making sure that she was feeling safe with us… You two already have a bond. I cannot think of a more perfect pairing."

"Besides… I would rather train with you than with someone else," piped up the young molly. "You seem kind… I… Remember always seeing your face… That is… If you want someone like me… I know that I am a mess…"

"Oh, little one," Dreamweaver sadly purred, fighting his instinct to curl up around the injured molly. "It's not that… I would love to train you… But! I don't believe that I could be worthy of that honor… I fear that there would be much that I couldn't teach you…"

"I don't care about honor!" the young molly responded shortly, claws digging against the stone floor. "I like you! I would rather be with you than with some mousebrain that will just judge me based on my looks and my background! At least, until I decide if I am going to return to ThunderClan…"

"Well, Dreamweaver, are you still going to say no?" Ada questioned him with a purr in her voice. "Miss Cherry is determined on it… And if you run into problems, you can always ask for help! We are a group united by our blood and our values!"

"You are right," sighed Dreamweaver, the heaviness on his heart leaving his body. "So… I Sir Dreamweaver, known as the Hidden Sight, accept this Page, Cherry, into my care until the day she either graduates or chooses another path."

Dreamweaver raised his right paw up, making sure that his pad was facing her so she could touch it with her paw pad. However, there was just silence. Then, he felt her sniff his pad, making a questioning sound. Before anyone could say anything, Dreamweaver heard her move and then felt a wet nose touch his own. Dreamweaver almost jumped out of his skin out of shock as both Ada and Arthur let out gasps of surprise.

"What in the world?" Dreamweaver thought as backed up. "There is no way… That she loves me? Just what are they teaching their cats in those foolish clans? Please don't let this little one be in love with me!"

"What?" Cherry questioned, sounding very confused. "In ThunderClan, when a kit becomes an apprentice, their mentor touches noses with them. This that not normal?"

"Oh thank the ancestors!" Dreamweaver mentally sighed with relief. "She is not in love with me! I could not live with myself if my Page fell in love with me! Besides… If we mentored a cat, we are not allowed to take them as a mate… There is just too much of a power imbalance there…"

"Er… Well," Ada stuttered, sounding thrown off by Cherry's action. "Here… That is considered a romantic action… Only done between mates…"

Dreamweaver could almost feel the molly's confusion, but Cherry said nothing more. Instead, as Dreamweaver lifted his paw again, he felt her touch his pad with her own. He heard Arthur shuffle the pages of his books as Ada coughed from the dust.

"Cherry, Dreamweaver," Ada spoke. "You are dismissed. Get something to eat and meet up with Sir Michael. We still have much ground to cover to find our sister's last kit."

Dreamweaver nodded with acknowledgement then bowed to the two. He felt his Page following his example beside him. Then, the two left the dusty cave, following the compacted dirt upwards. Soon enough, dirt became mossy stone under their claws. Dreamweaver sighed with relief as soon as he felt the heat of the sun on his face.

"So…" Cherry mewed beside him, sounding nervous. "What are we doing now?"

"We are heading over to the cooking station," Dreamweaver answered, trying not to drool at the thought of food. "And picking up something to eat before we head out."

"Out?" she questioned. "Where?"

"We are searching for a lost member of our family," he replied as they moved away from Arthur's den. "To give them a choice to join us if that is what they want. But… It' not easy to do anything on an empty stomach. Time to enjoy some home-grilled food!"

Cherry failed to say anything, but Dreamweaver got the feeling that she was frowning. He understood that: cooked food would be strange to a cat who had only ever had raw flesh. However, she, like all others before her, would grow to at least be okay with it. At least, it would be healthier than raw foods: less of a chance for parasites to take hold.

"Just because we accept help from the humans doesn't mean that we eat their food!" he added mentally with disgust. "Who would want dry, tasteless pallets or wet mush? Nothing beats the taste of a freshly smoked mouse or a good, meaty sausage?"

"Well, well, well! Look who it is!"

Dreamweaver had to hold in a growl as he heard three figures approach. He heard their swagger as they circled him and his Page, cruel laughter and sneers barely hidden under their breath.

"Great… Just what I needed…" Dreamweaver bitterly thought. "Fawkes and his group of bullies! Why do they always have to pick on me?"

"Look here boys!" sneered Fawkes, placing his tail mockly over Dreamweaver's back as he circled around. "The little freak got himself the little ruined molly!"

"Sounds like a perfect pairing to me!" purred one of Fawkes' friends. "After all… Both of them are outsiders that are good for nothing!"

"There are no cats that would find either one of you acceptable!" added the other. "After all, scars are ugly! They are not pretty, and everyone will run at the sight!"

"Then again," Fawkes continued on, making sure to step on Dreamweaver's paw. "It's not like you are going to be much good anyways… Well… Outside of being a History Speaker anyways!"

"Yeah!" laughed one of the others. "Those without Knight blood should just leave and never return!"

"Outsiders fear, hate, even kill us!" added the third cat. "Why should we let your kind in our greatness?"

"Just ignore them," Dreamweaver chanted to himself, trying to stay calm. "Show no reaction… They are just bullies… Not much of what they say is true. You are the son of Sir Michael and Lady Petal! Ada, Nutmeg, and Rose love me no matter the lack of shared blood. Many of the cats here understand and respect me! Besides… Too much pure blood causes many problems with our children! They have no ground to stand on!"

"Who are you mousebrains to say such terrible words? He is twice the cat that you will ever be!"

"Or Cherry could get upset instead, ruining everything," he sighed. "Oh dear, here we go again…"

"I am Sir Fawkes to you, clan, forest scum!" Fawkes snapped at her, venom dripping from his voice. "Of House Lancelot! Unlike your useless mentor, I actually have the blood of Lancelot running through my veins! I am destined to be a Guardian!"

"And that matters how?" questioned Cherry, snapping back in fury. "Because all I see is a foxheart that believes that he is better than everyone else! It's a wonder that you even have friends with an attitude like that!"

"Enough of this!" snapped Dreamweaver, determined to stop the conflict before Fawkes hits some nerves. "Fawkes, leave my Page out of this. Cherry, let's go. Just ignore them."

Dreamweaver wanted nothing more than to get away from Fawkes and his group of troublemakers. Nothing good would come from egging them on: if you just failed to answer them, they would leave out of frustration. Besides, most of the Knights were on his side and would step in to stop Fawkes.

"Stay calm… Stay strong," Dreamweaver chanted as they moved, Cherry quivering with anger beside him as Fawkes and his group continued their verbal assault. "Let their words roll over you like water over rocks… While they may hurt, those words cannot do any lasting harm if you don't let them take hold… There is no point in losing my temper over this… Besides, we have our curse… I cannot let my anger overtake me no matter what!"

As the taunts continued on, Dreamweaver followed the scent of smoke in the air, feeling his stomach growl. He felt the heat of the flames and heard the sizzle of the cooking meat on the stone slates. The hurried yet careful pawsteps of the Cooks as they prepared the food with sharpened sticks so that they wouldn't get burnt themselves. One of them turned towards Fawkes, who had somehow started yelling match with Cherry who had finally lost her patience with him.

"Fawkes," the Cook mewed with disappointment, disrupting the fight. "Are you starting trouble again? How many times do we have to tell you that blood doesn't matter within the Knights? You are just going to end up facing some serious consequences if you keep this up!"

"But Flame!" Fawkes cried, putting on the air of a victim. "We can't be letting outsiders in without Knights' blood! They will one day…"

"That is Sir Flame to you, young Squire!" the Cook answered back hotly. "And I will be reporting you to Sir Ada. Now… If you are not going to be nice, leave!"

Dreamweaver heard Fawkes huff with distaste then turned to leave. However, he stopped.

"At least I keep my sleeping area clean!" Fawkes snapped back. "Never have I seen a space covered with so many webs! Keep your outsider dirt away from the rest of us!"

"Fawkes! Get lost!" yelled a second cook. "Or do I need to get the spoon after you again?"

Finally, Dreamweaver heard Fawkes march away, muttering under his breath about dumb outsiders ruining the Knights. He sighed with relief as he turned towards where the already cooked food was cooling. However, he was stopped by a stick in his path.

"Here Dreamweaver," Flame mewed, waving the stick slightly. "One of the hunting patrols found these near some human house… And thought you would like them."

Dreamweaver sniffed the stick in appreciation as woody scent hit his nose. He happily took the stick from Flame and walked over to an empty area to enjoy his food.

"Cockroaches… Delicious!" Dreamweaver thought happily. "And these are some big ones… Must have escaped from some Human nest… Oh well, not my problem!"

Dreamweaver carefully stripped the insects off of the sticks with his teeth and crunched them, letting the juices and guts flow over his tongue. However, he finished it quickly, not wanting the Cook's hard work to go to waste. Cherry joined him, the scent of a cooked mouse reaching his nose. He noticed that Cherry was hesitating in taking a bite and swallowed, finishing off the last roach.

"What is the matter, Cherry?" he questioned, flicking his tail in worry.

"Sir… Er…" Cherry began nervously. "Before I came here, I… ate only raw… With the fur on… And the fire scares me…"

"Cherry," Dreamweaver stated, wrapping his tail around her. "It is okay to be afraid of something you are unfamiliar with… And you are right about fire! If you don't know how to handle it, it can become an agent of destruction. But, within the right paws, fire can be a useful tool. Even then, you do have to be careful around it: it can burn with little warning."

"But… Why cook your prey?" she asked. "The taste… is weird. I mean… It is nice to not to have to eat through feathers or fur… But why?"

"I never really thought about it," Dreamweaver honestly answered her, not wanting to hide the truth from his Page. "To me, it is just normal, but I also grew up with it. However, you are not the first cat to be…"

"But why?" repeated Cherry, sounding both curious and confused. "Why use fire at all if it can hurt someone? Especially… well, since we can eat prey raw…"

"Well, that is true for most of us," Dreamweaver confirmed. "But… Not for Lord Arthur."

"Lord Arthur?" Cherry mewed with surprise. "That old tom… can't eat prey raw?"

"Did you notice that he seemed different than most of us while we were in his den?" Dreamweaver enquired. "That his scent was slightly off?"

"I didn't notice his scent," Cherry admitted shamefully. "But… I did notice a few things. Strange head fur… his ears had a smaller second part that made them look like a butterfly's wings… Longer front toes… A strange dewclaw… A strange nose… But it was the eyes that were the oddest. They… They didn't look like…"

"A cat's eyes, right?" Dreamweaver finished knowingly. "And you're right! He doesn't have normal eyes… for us that is."

"Then…" Cherry sounded almost afraid to ask. "What..?"

"Lord Arthur has the eyes of a Humans."

Dreamweaver almost jumped at his father's voice. He had been too busy talking to Cherry that he had failed to hear him approach.

"Father," Dreamweaver said, dripping his head. "I'm sorry… Are we late?"

"Not at all, son," his father purred back. "I just wanted to see you…. And congratulate you on your new Page. I always knew you could do it, Dreamweaver."

As Dreamweaver beamed with happiness, Michael sat beside Cherry. Cherry gave off a very confused sound as she sat there.

"How… How?" Cherry finally asked. "Why would Ar… Lord Arthur have the eyes of a twoleg?"

"It is because Lord Arthur was once a human, many, many years ago," Michael began. "Longer than even the Knights existed… because he was once a King! A leader to his kind. However, there was a great battle, and Lord Arthur was gravely injured. In order to save his life, the humans took him to a spring that was 'known' for healing all injuries. Unfortunately, it was not a healing spring: it was the place that is the source of the Marked! While it did heal him, it also turned him into a hybrid cat: a cat that has features of their original species. With nowhere to go, he then…"

As Michael continued with the history lesson, Dreamweaver closed his eye and just listen to his father's voice. It was pleasant to his ears and, ever since he had reached the rank of Squire, he hadn't much time to spend with his father. However, Dreamweaver could also tell that Cherry was just getting even more confused by Michael's tale.

"I will help her," he decided. "She is most likely confused because she doesn't understand some of the words being used… And to let her know that it is normal. Many of those that were not born or brought here as kittens have the same problem. It is not their fault that they don't have the resources to know more about the world we live in… A world controlled by the humans…"

"Hey! Michael. Dreamweaver. Are you ready?"

The fluffy scent of Juliet hit his nose as she bounced over, his niece Shyla not far behind. As he stood up, he noticed that both Micheal and Cherry did the same. He felt the bones of the mouse that Cherry had and was glad: he didn't want his Page to go hungry. Carefully scooping up the bones then heading towards where the bones were stored, he heard his father.

"Is the rest of the group ready?" Michael questioned.

"Of course, sir," Juliet answered. "We are ready to go when you are."

"Excellent," Michael declared, sounding pleased. "Now… We are going to have one more cat with us… Please be welcoming."

"Yes sir," Juliet replied, waving her tail in salute.

As Dreamweaver joined the group in leaving the cooking area, he frowned, getting serious.

"It is time, Spark. We have not forgotten you. We are coming for you."

Sorry, I was impressed by Bonefall's tumbler... And made the Knights cook.