In ThunderClan…
A heavy rain fell on the forest, the rumble of thunder nearly drowning out the yowls of a she-cat in labor. The moss and bracken beneath her crunched and shifted as she thrashed in pain.
"It's going to be okay. Just breathe," a pale ginger tabby said. She placed a paw on the pale tortoiseshell's belly and flinched when a ripple ran through her. Honeyfrost was a skilled medicine cat, and was confident in herself, but at times like this, she missed Frostleaf. Her mentor had an unmatched calming presence, and this was Honeyfrost's first delivery without her.
Fernstorm cried out again, nearly clawing Honeyfrost as she flailed. The medicine cat turned to the entrance to the nursery.
"Get me a stick!" she called, hoping Patchwhisker would hear her over the storm. Fernstorm let out a low whine and Honeyfrost whipped around just in time to see the first kit slide out onto the moss. She lunged forward, licking the little tabby's fur and then placing it at Fernstorm's belly.
"Good job," she soothed. "Just two more."
"It hurts," Fernstorm wailed and Honeyfrost closed her eyes. StarClan help her, she prayed as a second kit dropped into the nest. This one was a tortoiseshell and she started breathing with ease.
Honeyfrost sighed with relief as the final kit joined the world. A little tortoiseshell and white she-kit, much smaller than her sisters but still healthy.
She helped the smallest kitten nestle up against Fernstorm's belly alongside her sisters and then briefly rested her head on Fernstorm's.
"You did it," she breathed. The queen nodded tiredly.
Honeyfrost made her way out of the nursery and into the stormy camp. A drenched Patchcloud was crouched near the entrance and he perked up when he saw her.
"Is she okay?" he asked.
"She is," Honeyfrost said. "And you have three healthy daughters."
The tom purred excitedly and stepped past her to slip into the nursery. Honeyfrost let him go, relishing the rain on her face and whiskers. She missed Frostleaf more than she could ever express.
Opening her eyes, she nearly jumped in shock. The ghostly image of her pale-furred former mentor was right in front of her.
"Don't be afraid," Frostleaf said. "I must speak to you, urgently."
Honeyfrost just stared. Her mentor had died of greencough several moons ago, just as leafbare was ending. How was she here? It didn't fully occur to her that a StarClan cat was visiting her until she realized how transparent Frostleaf was. She could make out the ridges in the stone behind her.
"What… why?" Honeyfrost breathed. "Is everything okay?" Frostleaf blinked slowly.
"I have a prophecy," she said. Honeyfrost started to shiver as her mentor began to recite the haunting words.
the end of the Clans is nigh
…
Then Frostleaf's body began to fade.
"Wait!" Honeyfrost cried out, rushing forward. "What does that mean?"
"I'm sorry," Frostleaf said. "I can't say more."
"Why?" Honeyfrost gasped, but her mentor was gone. She was left standing alone in the rain, trembling with both cold and fear.
In ShadowClan…
The wild storm lashing at the branches of the pines and the stinging of needle-like raindrops against their pelts was of little concern to the huddle of ShadowClan warriors. Nearly every cat in the Clan was crowded in the center of the camp, whispering to one another.
Three gray-furred figures sat closer to the tangle of brambles that protected the nursery from outsiders. Only a flash of bright red fur could be seen through the thorns but a sleek tom with piercing eyes was trying to force his way inside.
"Stop!" a silver tabby snapped. "Flamesong will ask for help if she needs it."
"My kits are being born," the first cat growled. "I deserve to be there." The silver tabby curled his lip in annoyance.
"I wish I was with my mate too," he said. "But we have to trust our medicine cat."
"Rippletail is right," the smallest of the cats said. She stepped in front of the two toms, blocking the entrance to the nursery. "Flamesong has delivered many litters and Shadeflower is an experienced queen. Everything will be alright."
"Not if that little twig of an apprentice messes up!" the angry tom hissed. "He's been nothing but useless."
"StarClan chose him, Sagefrost. Be kind," Rippletail said. Sagefrost just lashed his tail and turned away.
Inside the nursery, a fiery ginger she-cat was pacing back and forth between two queens, her fur spiked up in agitation.
"Lizardpaw!" she snapped. "Get Swiftstream the raspberry leaves!" She watched closely as a skinny brown tabby pawed several prickly leaves toward him and the panting black-and-white queen beside him.
As she licked them up, another queen gasped in pain. Flamesong whirled around and pressed a paw against her smoky black fur. A ripple ran through her body and Flamesong stepped back. She batted a chamomile flower to her and the queen quickly swallowed it. She was breathing hard, but seemed calm. Shadeflower had delivered her own kits and the kits of almost every other ShadowClan queen. Flamesong wasn't worried for her.
Swiftstream was having her first litter, but she was a strong, healthy cat. There wasn't any reason to be afraid. But still, Flamesong felt as if something was pulling at her tail, desperate to get her attention.
With a final groan from the queen, Shadeflower's kits were born in rapid succession. The first was a tiny black tom, smaller than Lizardpaw had been. The second was a silver tabby, like her father. She was easily the biggest kit Flamesong had ever seen.
She instructed Lizardpaw to give Shadeflower several borage petals and fetch her some water. Then she turned to Swiftstream, who was staring with wide eyes at the silver kit.
"She's gigantic!" she gasped. Shadeflower's ear twitched but she kept her gaze on her nursing kits. Flamesong stepped between them.
"Focus on your own kittens," she told Swiftstream. The patched queen yowled in pain and Flamesong closed her eyes. She wanted it all to end. Births were her least favorite part of being a medicine cat. When Beewhisker was still alive, she would do everything, only letting Flamesong fetch herbs or water. Now she had to be the mentor and let Lizardpaw do the fetch quests.
She was almost as relieved as Swiftstream was when the queen's two kits snuggled up against her belly. As soon as she was certain they both were stable, she rushed out of the den, barely stopping to tell Sagefrost and Rippletail that their mates were alright and that they could go inside.
She raced out of camp and stood gasping under a large pine. Beewhisker's parting words filled her mind.
"You can act like anything. That means you can be anything."
Flamesong shook her head in frustration. I can be a medicine cat, but I could never be a queen.
"Don't be too hard on yourself," a gentle voice said. Flamesong hissed in surprise and unsheathed her claws, ready to attack if needed. But the shadowy figure of her former mentor was completely at ease.
Flamesong stared at Beewhisker's ghostly form. Another cat was slowly fading into existence beside her. Flamesong's heart began to pound. It was her mother, Bumblewing. Side by side, the sisters were impossible to tell apart. Only Bumblewing's torn ear differentiated them.
"What's wrong?" Flamesong asked sharply. She had seen her mother once before, when a kit from Shadeflower's previous litter didn't survive. Bumblewing took the little tom to StarClan.
"We don't know," Beewhisker said. "This is all we can say."
…
water, earth, plant, sky
…
"That? That doesn't mean anything!" Flamesong spat. "You can't tell me to warn my Clanmates of our impending doom because of a nonsense prophecy!"
Bumblewing's sides shook with laughter and she blinked warmly at her daughter.
"You'll know what it means when the time comes." Then she twined her tail with Beewhisker's and the two she-cats disappeared into the rain.
Flamesong hissed a few choice words into the darkness.
In WindClan…
WindClan cats prided themselves on sleeping beneath Silverpelt. They said it brought them closer to their ancestors. But when it rained, every cat scurried for the tangled gorse that surrounded the camp. Only one cat still stood in the clearing.
She was pacing back and forth and muttering to herself, and Whitecloud was resisting the urge to snap at her, telling her to shut up. She had enough to deal with as it was, with Snowstar wailing and whining.
Whitecloud loved her older sisters. She respected them greatly. But she had authority too, and she wished they would listen to her. What's the point in being the Clan's medicine cat if your sisters only listen to each other? she thought. She was lucky Cindershine wasn't insisting on barging into Snowstar's den.
She did feel for Snowstar. Her mate died less than a moon ago and she was deep in her grief. But she also had to lead her Clan. Many cats were already displeased that their leader was having kits. And of course it was Whitecloud's job to keep the peace because Cindershine would always side with Snowstar.
Nepotism ran rampant in WindClan and Whitecloud hated it. So many of the Clan's warriors would never get to be in a leadership position because her kin decided their bloodline was superior. The little kit Snowstar would birth was already destined to be WindClan's next leader.
Snowstar let out a final whine of pain and a single white kit slipped into the mossy nest. Whitecloud bent her head to lick his fur and then guided him to his mother's belly. He began to suckle earnestly.
"Congratulations," Whitecloud whispered. Snowstar looked down at her kit and nodded slowly. The medicine cat backed out of the leader's den and flicked her tail, signaling to Cindershine that she could enter.
The rain was lightening up but Whitecloud was still getting soaked. She tilted her head up to the sky and let the rain drip off her whiskers.
"StarClan… please protect my nephew."
"We will."
The response made Whitecloud's eyes fly open. She stared in surprise at Snowstar's mate. The tom purred in amusement at her shock.
"Hello Whitecloud," he said.
"Gorseheart…" she breathed. "Are you here for your son?" Fear bolted through her at the possibility of her nephew's death. But Gorseheart shook his head.
"He is not destined for StarClan for a long time. I'm here for you."
"Me?"
"Yes. I have a message."
…
four heroes to call upon
…
"A prophecy?" she asked. Gorseheart dipped his head.
"I can't say more, but I trust you. Keep my son safe. He is born to be more than a leader."
"I will," Whitecloud said. The tom purred warmly and touched his muzzle to the top of her head.
"Thank you."
His warmth faded away and Whitecloud stood blinking in the rain. Then Snowstar called to her from inside the den.
Whitecloud slipped inside, feeling dazed.
"Are you alright?" she asked.
"She's fine," Cindershine said quickly.
"I want to tell you my son's name," Snowstar explained. She swept her tail to the side so Whitecloud could see his thick white pelt.
"Meet Cloudkit."
In RiverClan…
The harsh raindrops battering the lake and surrounding land had faded to a light drizzle, but storm clouds still hung heavy in the sky. Mothstripe fought the urge to shiver as he pulled pawfuls of wilted leaves out of a crack in the rock walls of his den. The thickness of his pelt had faded with age, leaving him at the mercy of chilly weather.
The dampness also made his bones ache and he suppressed the urge to grumble as he stretched to reach the shriveled berries in the back of his herb storage crevice.
A sudden, frantic yowl caught his attention but he just angled his ears back, not ready to give up his task for a whiny apprentice who probably got a thorn in their paw.
But the urgency of the cats' tone only increased, and then Mothstripe heard pawsteps approaching his den. He sighed and turned to face his panicked Clanmate.
True worry hit him when Mothstripe was faced with Grayfang. Hawkstar's sister's mate was a calm, almost cold cat who never raised his voice or lashed out. But his yellow eyes were wide with fear.
"Grasswing is kitting!" he gasped.
Another shiver ran through Mothstripe, but it wasn't from the cold. The whole Clan thought Grasswing was unable to have kits. She and Grayfang had tried for seasons, and they were now both senior warriors. Her pregnancy was a shock, and another stressor for Mothstripe. At her age, kits could be dangerous.
"I'll be right there," Mothstripe said. "I need to fetch a few herbs first. I'll meet you in the nursery."
"No!" Grayfang cried. "She's not there!"
"What?" Mothstripe demanded. "Where is she then?"
"We went for a walk on the lakeshore." Grayfang looked terrified as he spoke.
Grumbling under his breath, Mothstripe gathered a bundle of leaves and followed Grayfang out of the RiverClan camp.
Foolish cat, he thought to himself. She couldn't stay put for one night?
Grasswing was a notoriously curious cat who held little concern for Clan borders. She was an explorer at heart. But this adventure would clearly be her last.
As soon as Mothstripe saw her he knew she'd lost too much blood. Grayfang rushed to her side, nuzzling her cheek and whispering to her. Two kits laid by her tail, nearly as limp as she was.
Mothstripe pulled the kits close to him and licked their fur roughly to warm them up. Grasswing was beyond saving but he would not let her kits die.
"What are you doing?" Grayfang snapped. "Help her!"
Mothstripe looked at Grayfang and shook his large head.
"She is with StarClan now."
As the gray warrior let out a pained yowl, a warm breeze brushed through Mothstripe's fur. He turned to the lake, where the gust came from, and found Grasswing's starry ghost looking back at him.
In his many many moons as RiverClan's medicine cat, Mothstripe had never been sought out by StarClan. His ancestors spoke to him when he visited the Moonpool every half moon, and were with him when Hawkstar received his nine lives. But Grasswing was clearly here for him.
"Your kits will be safe," Mothstripe said to her. She nodded.
"I know. I trust you. But you must remember…"
…
to stand up to the dusk and dawn
Mothstripe stared at Grasswing. She seemed far more worried than she had ever been in life. He finally summoned the sense to nod to her.
"I will remember," he said. Grasswing twitched her nose and waved her tail at him.
"Good luck," she told him. And then she was gone.
Mothstripe turned to Grayfang, whose head was still bowed.
"Help me carry the kits back to camp," he instructed, sweeping his thin tail over the soggy scraps of fur. One was large and gray, like his father, and the other was a small brown tabby; a copy of her mother.
"Bluestream can nurse them."
He picked up the tabby she-kit and began to plod back towards the shelter of RiverClan's camp. He was getting far too old for this.
Hi everyone! I am back after a long break to share my newest fic from a collection of WAY too many ideas. WEPT has been boiling in my brain for a while and I finally found the time and energy to actually start it. WEPT will most likely be a trilogy but I have a vague concept for a fourth fic and I also have several ideas for Super Editions. Also, if you want to follow me on Wattpad, I am posting Sunrise there as well, and I will be able to share announcements in a way ff.n doesn't allow.
I hope you enjoy!
The Full Prophecy
the end of the Clans is nigh
water, earth, plant, sky
four heroes to call upon
to stand up to the dusk and dawn
Have a nice day, be kind to each other, and never stop reading!
- Stormy