Equation: a short story
The world is connected together, as surely as the sun rises every day. Connected by what, that only he knew. The fabric of space and time itself was held together by cold, unbreakable logic. It shaped everything, anything that was seen and done. A series of actions led to a result, each one but a small component in a grand scheme.
He has no emotions - how could he? It would be a contradiction, a failure, a disruption, for he could not feel emotions and think clearly at the same time. He executes plans and calculates equations. Equations he likes. They were full of certainty; no room was left for doubt. Time together with skill equals prey caught. Becoming a deputy plus the death of the leader means becoming the leader. The latter was his favorite.
When his friends played, he observed. When others chatted, he kept quiet, speaking when necessary, and only when necessary. In the remaining time, he analyzed. He was deemed cold and introverted, although he didn't think much of the term. He must not waste time on unimportant events. He had an agenda. A magnificent, intricate plan.
This was Falconkit, newborn kit, certified genius. And his ambition, his ultimate objective, is to be leader.
Narrowing his eyes, Falconkit steps forward. He is now Falconpaw. He resolved to train to the greatest extent of his abilities; he put in his full effort, for moons, until his muscles strained every day and he could hardly walk afterwards. The Clan must surely choose the strongest, most resourceful warrior for deputy.
His mother watched, pride gleaming in her eyes, as her son grew, trained, became a warrior and gained the respect of his Clanmates. Falconfang. A nice name - it somewhat suited him. No one was too close to him, but no one disliked him either. There was a sort of reverence for this strong, intelligent yet cold warrior who did everything by himself. No one questioned it; it was long accepted as his personality. Not that he actually had one, of course.
A sense of purpose kept Falconfang going. How he got his purpose, only he knew.
Time flew past, and Flamestar was old. He'd been leader for a long, long time; both his parents had passed away moons ago, and judging by his silver hairs and fragile bones, he'd either be dead of old age or retiring to the elders' den in just a few more moons.
Falconfang was worried. His plan of course involved becoming the next deputy, but he wasn't quite there yet. He knew his Clanmates would be happy with him being deputy, but that wasn't enough - the current deputy Iceclaw had been in that position ever since Falconfang was an apprentice. He would succeed Flamestar as leader, and Falconfang would probably be an elder by the time Icestar's rule ended.
He analyzed. The plan could not be ruined. The plan must continue. He knew what he had to do.
It would be quick and painless; he must not cause more harm than was necessary. He had heard tales of how the first Tigerstar had died - torn apart by sharp claws, losing all his nine lives. He would avoid that. Iceclaw would go to StarClan and live a happy life. A small price to pay.
He lured Iceclaw into the forest, near the Twoleg nest, claiming he had discovered 'troubling evidence', an object that he couldn't understand.
"Where did you find it, Falconfang?" Iceclaw asked as they approached the Twoleg nest. Falconfang glanced around them. There was not a cat he could see or scent. It was all clear.
The forest went silent.
Falconfang casually strolled up to Iceclaw, opening his mouth as if to reply to his question. Followed with a quick, skilled lunge for the deputy's throat.
The deputy flinched and took a shaky step backwards, eyes widening before he was hit with realization. "No! Falconfang! What are you trying to do?! Please-"
Falconfang was not one of the villains who wasted time with words. Efficiency was key; he knew well that a few wasted seconds might result in failure. He paused only to take a deep breath. Fresh air filled his lungs; energy coursed through his veins. He did not feel excited. He felt grim, and perhaps a bit regretful that he had to take a life to achieve his goal. He was not Tigerstar – he was not born to be a killer. He wished he'd never have to kill another Clanmate again.
Iceclaw's neck cracked and his body slumped to the ground, the fight over before it began. Falconfang could almost swear he saw a starry spirit rise from his body, cast a glance filled with anger, disappointment and deep sadness at him, and then turned to pad towards the sky into the stars.
"I'm sorry, Iceclaw," whispered Falconfang.
The warrior code has been broken.
The necessary work was done. The scent on the body was disguised, and then Falconfang hunted a bit before bringing his prey back to camp.
He felt remorse that day. It was uncharacteristic of him, he knew. Emotions were his nemesis, he knew. But he couldn't shake the guilt that grew inside him, or the look of anguish on Iceclaw's face as he was mercilessly murdered.
Why had it come to this?
Under the stars and the ink-black sky, the newly named deputy Falconfang dreamed.
"Falconkit, I'll teach you the warrior code," his mother mewed.
"The warrior code? What's that?" Falconkit looked up, wonder in his eyes.
"It's a set of rules all warriors must live by. It goes like this…"
Falconkit listened silently as his mother listed all fourteen rules of the Code. Defend the Clan even with your life. Feed the elders, kits and queens first. The deputy becomes leader when the leader dies or retires.
"Remember, my son, always put the Clan before yourself, above yourself. The Clan is your life. Do whatever you can to serve the Clan, make sure that the Clan is strong."
He analyzed.
All that he'd been doing, he was doing it for the Clan. He was selfless, but in a twisted way. Not that anyone, even StarClan, would ever understand. It was fine with him. He would sacrifice his happiness, for the Clan. It needed a strong leader; only he could take up the role. He was capable and intelligent. He just hoped he would see a good ending.
It was Gathering night. A chilly wind blew into his face, and he fluffed up his fur, shivering. Cats of all the Clans were mingling together, talking as if they were old friends. The Clans had enjoyed peace for quite a while now.
Falconfang looked around, spotting a small group of cats, two from ThunderClan, one from his Clan. Uninterested, he blinked, looking at nothing in particular, but Owlwing, a she-cat from his Clan, caught his gaze and beckoned him over with a wave of her tail. He'd been good friends with her as an apprentice. He couldn't really refuse the invitation.
"Really, Falconfang! You should talk a bit more to cats at Gatherings, make some new friends you know. This is Falconfang," she introduced to the two ThunderClan warriors. Falconfang internally groaned. He didn't feel too much like talking right now. But he greeted the three cats friendlily anyways, and made small talk.
Soon, the Gathering started, and Owlwing sat down beside him. The leaders made unimportant talk as usual, and Falconfang grew restless with the unusually long and dry Gathering. Owlwing looked at him, seeming to guess his thoughts. "Want to go for a walk?"
"Sure," Falconfang grunted. "Anything to get out of this boring session." They slipped out of the Gathering mostly unnoticed, and strolled through the forest. Suddenly, Owlwing picked up pace and ran ahead, shouting behind her, "race you to that tree!" Falconfang stared for a moment, amused, before chasing after her. It wasn't too long of a distance, but he didn't manage to outrun her and he finally collapsed, flanks heaving, against the roots of the tree. "You're fast," he acknowledged.
Owlwing looked somewhat surprised. It wasn't every day that Falconfang gave praises. "Thanks," she murmured. He could distinctly make out her features; the moonlight beamed onto her rounded face and silver pelt - it was as if her fur sparkled. Catching himself staring, Falconfang looked away, somewhat embarrassed. Owlwing glanced at him briefly with unconcealed amusement.
The moonlit forest was quiet, and a gentle breeze rustled the leaves overhead. Falconfang and Owlwing sat in companionable silence for a moment. The air seemed charged with something unspoken.
Owlwing broke the silence, her voice soft but filled with curiosity, "You know, Falconfang, I think you're not as cold as everyone thinks."
Falconfang shivered, but not from the cold. He didn't know what to feel, and it was terrifying - the feeling of uncertainty, of helplessness as he sat there. His mind raced as he tried to process Owlwing's words. She thought he wasn't as cold as others believed? What did she mean by that? He had worked hard to cultivate a stoic, logical reputation among the Clan - it served his ambitions well.
Yet here was Owlwing implying she saw something more in him. It stirred long-buried emotions he had tried to suppress. It made him feel exposed, vulnerable. He did not like it.
"I am as I need to be for the good of the Clan," he responded carefully.
Owlwing tipped her head. "Perhaps. But sometimes I think you use that as an excuse." Her eyes were earnest. "It's okay to feel, Falconfang. Emotions don't make you weak."
Falconfang bristled, rising to his paws. "Emotions cloud judgment. I don't have time for them." His voice came out much more harshly than he intended, and he somewhat regretted his words. He had meant them, but maybe…
Hurt flashed across Owlwing's face. She stood too, shaking her head sadly. "If you truly believe that, then I feel sorry for you."
She turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving Falconfang alone with his tumultuous thoughts. He never messed up conversations like this. He stared after her, conflicting emotions churning inside. Sadness, confusion, frustration, regret. And perhaps a strange, wistful yearning for the connection Owlwing had offered. Emotions. He pushed them away. He must not be weak. He must not succumb to the torture that emotions gave him. He hardened his heart once more.
Yet that night his dreams were filled with Owlwing's shimmering eyes and gentle words. Whispering that maybe, just maybe, he could choose a different path.
When he woke, Falconfang shoved the dreams aside. He had made his choice long ago. Even if his paws were set on a dark path. All that remained was to see his ambitions realized and become the leader the Clan deserved.
Whatever it cost him inside hardly mattered.
Flamestar had died of old age.
The Clan sat vigil for their previous leader, some huddled together in misery, some sitting alone to grieve.
A sweet scent drifted towards Falconfang. Owlwing. What did she want this time? The conversation between them that night briefly flashed through his mind. He didn't want to recall it again. After that, they had hardly spoken, although Falconfang couldn't stop himself from occasionally casting mournful glances towards her when no one was looking. And thinking about what she had said. Although he'd resolved long ago to go through with his plan no matter what.
Owlwing settled beside Falconfang, her eyes dark with sorrow. "Flamestar was a good leader," she murmured. Falconfang dipped his head. "He served our Clan well."
They sat in silence for a moment, the only sound the soft keening of grieving cats. Finally Owlwing spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Falconfang, I know you and I have had our differences. But I want you to know that despite everything, I believe you will lead our Clan justly."
Falconfang stared at her, surprise flickering in his gaze. This was the last thing he expected to hear from Owlwing after their argument. "What makes you say that?" he asked carefully.
Owlwing met his eyes steadily. "Because I know there is good in you, Falconfang. I've seen it, even if you try to hide it."
Falconfang looked away, emotions swirling within. No cat had ever truly believed in him like this. He didn't know how to respond. A part of him wished Owlwing would stop, that the emotions blinding him would disappear. He was going to be leader of ShadowClan. He needed to analyze.
Owlwing went on, "I can't pretend to understand the path you've chosen. But I think underneath it all, your intentions are noble. You only want what's best for our Clan."
Falconfang turned back to her, breath catching. Her eyes shone with faith in him, despite everything.
"Thank you, Owlwing," he managed hoarsely. "Your words mean more than you know." In response, she touched her muzzle gently to his shoulder.
As Owlwing padded away, Falconfang gazed up at the emerging stars. For the first time, a glimmer of hope dawned inside him. He knew he would become the leader the Clan deserved. He had vowed to put his Clan first, always. He just wished with all his heart that the path here had been different.
Falconstar paced back and forth outside the medicine cat's den, from which loud, ear-piercing yowls could be heard. He'd never felt anxiety like this before. As with all other emotions, it troubled him.
The gravity of what he had done came crashing down on him.
He'd taken Owlwing as his mate, who was kitting at that very instant.
Why had he done it?
He loved her, the strong, powerful emotion surging through every part of him until he almost couldn't take it. He wanted to reject this reality. He still didn't know what had come over him. All this wasn't supposed to have happened. But why not? A voice at the back of his mind whispered. Because emotions would blind me. They make me weak.
An image of Owlwing flashed back into his mind again.
"It's okay to feel, Falconfang. Emotions don't make you weak."
Could that be true?
Hawkpaw had grown up – he was Hawkflight now. In his son, Falconstar saw himself. The rationality he carried with him, the way he could understand things perfectly. Logic lived on in his son, the same ruthless logic that had once haunted Falconstar. But there were traits Hawkflight had that left even Falconstar a bit envious: his natural compassion for others, his good-natured amiability. He got them from his mother, he thought. The irony – who would've thought Falconstar plus Owlwing equaled a perfect warrior?
Unlike Falconstar, who had committed… a dark crime to get his position, there was no doubt that he was born to be leader one day. Hawkflight was Falconstar's hope. He hoped his son would be a perfect version of himself, the best leader the Clans have ever seen.
So it was with pride and some other immense emotion that Falconstar named Hawkflight the next deputy.
Falconstar lay, rasping and coughing, in his nest. He was dying, both to old age and to the losing battle with greencough.
Owlwing had joined StarClan a few moons ago. She would be happy there, he knew.
But he also knew… he would not meet her there. He might never see her again. The starry cats had hinted as much at his leadership ceremony long ago; none of them were too pleased to see him, although they acknowledged he would make a competent leader. He had carried with him the burden of knowing that as his Clanmates - and his mate - would join the ranks of StarClan when they died, he would fade into the Dark Forest, to be either forgotten or viewed with contempt by those who followed him.
I never told her that I'd murdered Iceclaw, he suddenly realized. How could he? She was too important to him. He didn't ever, ever want to let her go. If he told her, surely she'd leave him, view him as nothing more than a heartless traitor. But she knew the truth now, living in the stars. How did she feel about him now?
I have served my Clan well, he reminded himself. I led them and guided them through hardship after hardship. I was just and courageous. I shall not have a single regret when I die. My son is as capable as I, and the Clan will thrive.
The Clan. The Clan. Clan this, Clan that. It was suffocating. For once, Falconstar let the selfish thoughts take over. He didn't deserve to be in the Dark Forest, not a single bit. He wanted to join StarClan, to be with Owlwing and live his life happily ever after, watching his son, who would eventually join them and make the family whole again.
What am I waiting for? I am ready.
Falconstar closed his eyes and let go of his struggle. He joined the dead.
…
He appeared in a dark forest, trees looming over him, misery and anxiety filling him instead of the serenade of calmness he was used to. He was a resident of the Dark Forest now.
They had said the Dark Forest brings out the worst in you. It sucks your emotions out from you and it changes the purest parts of your mind into evil.
Falconstar could not stay here for long. Plus, he was determined to change, to make amends for whatever was holding him back from StarClan. His life had not been perfect, but he would not abandon himself here.
For the last time in his life, he formed a plan.
…
Falconstar sat down at the border between the Dark Forest and StarClan. The ancient cat Juniperclaw, who had guarded this border, had almost completely faded, only the faintest of blurry outlines signaling his presence; he paid no mind to Falconstar.
Then, a starry shape appeared from the distance, walking gracefully towards him. Her gentle movements stirred emotions up inside Falconstar again. It had been so long. This time, Falconstar let the emotions roam freely. He had no need, no desire to refuse them anymore.
"Falconstar."
"Owlwing…"
Owlwing gazed at Falconstar, her eyes clouded with emotion. "I've missed you," she whispered.
Falconstar drank in the sight of her, his heart aching. "And I you. More than you could ever know."
He longed to press himself against her familiar soft fur, to feel her comforting warmth once more. But hesitation held him back.
"Owlwing, I…" He faltered, shame rising inside him. "I have done terrible things. Things that can never be undone or forgiven. You know this now." His voice was thick with pain. "Can you still care for a cat like me, after everything?"
Owlwing was silent for a long moment.
"The crimes you committed weigh heavily. But I know the true heart that lies beneath the ambition and logic. I always have."
A heavy silence settled between them, the reality of the choices Falconstar made echoing in the empty space. Owlwing stood there, waiting for Falconstar to speak.
"I have no right to be with you in StarClan," Falconstar admitted at last, his gaze dropping. "I've always known that. I understand if you can't forgive me. Just know that I-"
Owlwing stepped closer, brushing her starlit flank against his. "Shh. I didn't say that. We – StarClan – have forgiven you. We have seen you change from the cold, emotionless warrior to the wise, understanding leader. Everything you did, you did it not out of evil. Because of that, we can understand you, Falconstar."
Falconstar stood in shocked silence, joy rising up and bubbling inside him. Was this true?
"Then why did I end up in the Dark Forest at first, Owlwing?"
"It takes a true warrior to cross the border from the Dark Forest into StarClan. To step across it is the final proof that you have changed."
"Let's go, then."
Following her lead, Falconstar raced across the border. Lush green grass sprouted around his paws as he stepped into the light, the dark sky turning into a beautiful greenleaf-sky blue. He had done it. He had passed his final test.
"Welcome, Falconstar."
A thousand voices spoke at once, together as one, greeting the former ShadowClan leader. His long journey was over. The equation of his life was complete and perfectly balanced, as all things should be.
End
AN: Thank you so much for reading this one-shot! Finally finished it after almost an entire day of writing. Please leave a review and fav if you enjoyed it, in particular a review is very much appreciated! Until next time :)