TWENTY-ONE
"Our second cat's journey to the ravine began at a very similar path than Scourge's," Filou started after taking a pause, "He descended into the Ravine and met the cats who were living there - once again, very friendly. Now, does anyone have any ideas for names for this particular cat?"
Instead of immediate outbursts of names, the others just glanced at each other skeptically. They didn't know where this story was going or if this cat was the kind of cat to want to tie their name into. Filou, who was clearly expecting more of the same shenanigans, nodded in surprise. "Alright, then I'll pick one. Let's go with…hmm…let's say his name is Stone."
Their precious silence was short-lived after that.
"Stone? What kind of a name is that?"
"I wouldn't name my worst enemy Stone."
"Just call him Rock at this point…"
"Okay, okay," said Filou, chuckling incredulously at the sudden anger about the name Stone, "Geez. Not Stone, then. If you lot have anything better, than feel free to-"
"Lion!"
The kits raised their eyebrows at Rusty, who had burst out the name. "What's a 'lion?'" asked Ferris.
"I don't know, but I heard Tommy mention a cat from Torch named Lion and it sounded like a cool name!" Filou glanced uncomfortably back at Quince, who had indeed heard him and was now giving a death glare to her eldest tom. "Well, let's keep the 'Torch' part of his name out of it, but Lion is a wonderful name, Rusty. Let's see…"
They shifted in thought for a moment before continuing on. "Lion wants to get to the other side, just as Scourge did. But unlike Scourge, he sees how peaceful life is and how everyone gets along. He knows that it will be difficult to convince others to help him leave, specifically because they want him to stay among them.
"Then he comes up with an idea. Instead of forcing his way out, what if he simply just convinces the others to not just help him, but accompany him in a manner where they can continue to work and live together afterward? What if the idea of a goodbye didn't have to be permanent?
"So he doesn't try to climb up the side of the mountain. He stays down with the other cats in The Great Ravine and lives with them, building bonds with all of them until everyone thinks of him as not a stranger, but one of them.
Then, on a clear and starry night, Lion stands before the other cats in the Ravine and says 'I have received a vision. That we must leave this Ravine and go up the other side into the meadow!'"
As if the anxiety of a looming high-stakes battle wasn't enough, everything about ShadowClan territory was making Firepaw feel sick to his stomach.
It felt the opposite of the forest that ThunderClan roamed. There were little trees and blades of grass that stretched so high that they almost brushed his belly. The soil wasn't even muddy in the greenleaf heat, but every pawstep that Firepaw took felt sticky against his pads. And as he and Graypaw marched deeper and deeper into enemy territory, the stench of the Thunderpath was soon swamped by a more vibrantly repulsive smell of rotting meat. The source of the smell - a Twoleg structure piled high with shiny black blobs and surrounded by an ominous circle of dead grass - grew closer and Firepaw had to force himself to not gag as he looked around for Yellowfang.
"StarClan's kits…no wonder ShadowClan wants to invade the other Clans…" murmured Graypaw, voice wavering in distaste, "Can you imagine living next to that your whole life? Eugh."
They hung a right, recalling Yellowfang's precise directions on where they were supposed to turn. As they crested a mound of dirt, the ginger tom saw the figure of the long-haired elderly medicine cat waiting for them with a bundle of small white flowers in her mouth. His heart was hammering again - it was starting to really hit him now. They were really going to do this.
"Took ya long enough," said Yellowfang crossly. Her tail was lashing - she was stressed, which was appropriate.
"Yeah, your medicine cat friend gave us a nice scare," retorted Firepaw while she dropped the bundle of chamomile in front of them.
"And how can you even smell camp in this place?" complained Graypaw, "I think I'll need a week's worth of baths to even get a little of the scent out."
"I'm glad ya took the time to make critique of the territory you're about to invade," sneered Yellowfang impatiently. "Now…come take a look at what you're working with."
The three of them peeked over the closest hill and down into a dip in the muddy landscape. Firepaw saw a tree standing tall and boasting green leaves, the pillar of clean and natural life looking out of place with the environment it grew on. Surrounding camp in a circle was a barrier of mud and thorny vines, short enough where the ginger tom could get a peek at the rocks arrangements and dens that made up ShadowClan's camp. It didn't look too different from ThunderClan's camp from a distance, but something about how there seemed to be not a blade of green grass contrasting the mud and dirt made Firepaw feel he was standing on a crude imitation. Like ShadowClan was deliberately taking his Clan's gorgeous camp and stripping the beauty out of it.
Cats mingled around the camp. Even the way they moved put Firepaw on edge - something about how they all slouched and kept their eyes down at their paws when they walked.
"That's a lot… " whispered Graypaw, "How are we going to even get close to the edge before someone scents us?"
"That's the nursery back there…" said Yellowfang, gesturing to the back corner of the camp to a slab of lichen-rich wood leaning against what looked to be a crevice into the roots of the tree in camp, "And there's a drop in the wall not too far."
"So…what? We just run up, drop the flowers and run away?" murmured Firepaw, throwing a side-eye at the medicine cat, " That's your grand plan to try and get Cinderkit's attention?"
"Well, do you have a better idea?" hissed Yellowfang, "You want to just sit around and call to her with your ThunderClan accent? Pray that they're too busy complaining about the 'stink' that you're so tied up on that they just don't hear you?"
Accent. "That's it!" said Firepaw, turning to Mousefur, "Mousefur can cover for us and just use her ShadowClan impression to keep any warriors away. Maybe we can even hide behind the nursery and talk to her there-"
"I'm sorry… ShadowClan impression? " Yellowfang looked completely baffled. "You must be joking, right?"
Firepaw simply looked to the warrior, who cleared her throat and took a second to think through how she was going to speak. " I love Brokenstar. I love fascism. I also want to steal the kits and have them all to myself. "
The black-furred molly stared at Mousefur incredulously. "I…That is the stupidest skill I've ever seen."
"Yes, I'm aware."
"I mean… why would you even bother learning something like that?"
"Mental illness, probably."
"Yeah, no surprise there," murmured Yellowfang, shaking her head and ignoring the cold glare that Firepaw was giving her after that response. "Well, I suppose if…she's that effective, then it could work. But you're still parading in there without a masked scent. You'll be getting two warriors on your tail before you even step foot into the camp."
"Then we just need to mask our scent…" said Firepaw, furrowing his brows in thought. They could go back to the border, but what if the scent was old or what if there was a border patrol walking by? There were other alternatives that were going through the ginger tom's mind before he looked up and behind him, back towards the carrionplace.
"No…" said Graypaw in a whine, "You're not seriously thinking-"
"It's the only place nearby that probably won't have warriors on patrol, right?" said Firepaw, "Besides…I don't think even ShadowClan would want to be near a scent like that if it's strong enough."
"Yeah, neither do I, " insisted the gray apprentice, "You know how close I came to passing out just walking near it? And now you're saying we need to roll in it?"
Firepaw sighed. "Well, unless you have a better idea…" Graypaw lowered his head and sighed, not bothering to hide his distraught as the three ThunderClan spies-to-be went to go mask their scent.
If he thought changing the elders' nests were bad, it was nothing compared to walking into carrionplace. Even fox-lengths away did Firepaw feel like the disgusting scent was going to knock him out. His face scrunched up and his tongue pressed up hard to try and block his scent palette, but he still felt like he was tasting trash. Alongside him, Graypaw looked like he was going to cry and Mousefur actively looked like she was trying not to gag.
Firepaw intended to go in and rub against some of the waste inside the enclosure, but he only managed to rub up against the outer walls of carrionplace before the abhorrent smell actually threatened to make him keel over. The scent of rotting meat burned his scent palettes, making the apprentice feel like he wouldn't even be able to smell his own scent without it reeking of garbage. But after a minute of rubbing against the border, Firepaw ended up praying that it was enough and began walking back towards the camp.
Yellowfang was gone, off in some hidden place where she would help escort the kits back to camp. Now the ginger tom was left with nothing to do but sneak into the camp of ThunderClan's most dangerous enemy and try to help six kits sneak out. Not even the carrion scent was enough to neuter the potency of that revelation. This was it. It was all or nothing from here.
"Let's go," he said with a nod to his ThunderClan compatriots. Mousefur picked up the bundle of chamomile left behind and together the three of them walked the wide circle around the back of ShadowClan's camp before slowly approaching. Firepaw could hear voices but the accents were too rough and overlapping that he couldn't pick up anything that they were saying. They sank low with their bellies to the ground as they grew closer and closer, Firepaw's heart racing in his chest before they reached the dry dirt wall.
Despite the commotion, Firepaw thought that just one breath too loud would set off ShadowClan of their presence. So keeping his mouth shut, he gestured to the lowest point of the wall where the three of them could jump over and nodded to Mousefur.
Slowly, the brown she-cat took position, making sure the bundle of chamomile was firm in her mouth, and with a final breath leaped over the dirt and landed silently over the wall. Firepaw's breath caught in his throat as he watched, ears perked for something… anything that would give away that they were in danger.
Nothing. Just normal conversations. Firepaw picked up on the world "ThunderClan" and "battle" a few times, but that was it.
He looked to Graypaw, who looked scared out of his mind. He was breathing so hard and so fast that his chest was heaving, and the tom shook his head in panic as the ShadowClan camp loomed over them. I can't do this, he seemed to tell Firepaw through just the fear in his eyes, I can't do it.
The ginger tom reached over and pressed his own paw on top of his, trying hard to look firm and comforting as he nodded. Yes, you can, he tried to say. I know you can.
Graypaw still continued to look shock-ridden, so Firepaw inched closer. Even when they were covered in unholy scent did he still find some part of his scent to soothe himself and clear his mind. He nodded and looked right into his beloved's eyes, the message as clear as it could be. I believe in you.
Slowly, the gray tom let just enough of his terror go to nod back and get into position. With bated breath, Firepaw watched as Graypaw reared back and jumped the wall - hind paws scraping against the dirt making the ginger tom's heart stutter in his chest. But he listened closely, still. No sign of danger. They were still in the clear.
The ginger tom glanced back out into the expanse of ShadowClan territory. He hated it. He would probably always hate it. And the hate only increased his resolve to make sure this wasn't where he would die. Turning back towards the dirt wall, Firepaw pushed back on his hind legs, sighed deeply and jumped.
The feeling of dirt under his pads as he landed nearly made him topple over, but he was able to steady himself and quickly crouch low to the ground. He was in camp. They were here. All that was left to do was to get the kits out.
On cue, Mousefur peaked out from behind the massive root that made up the nursery. Once the coast was clear, she tossed out the bundle of chamomile as far as she could towards the front of the nursery and darted behind the next den over, making herself scarce in the shadows cast by the shroud of brambles. The lure was out. Now all they had to do was wait.
The scent of carrionplace worked it's wonders. Though Firepaw could hear ShadowClan warriors talking amongst themselves, it was all about mundane things like how the prey was running. Not a mention about an attack on RiverClan or a word of praise about how ShadowClan was soon going to rule the whole forest. Every word he heard could have been something that one of his Clanmates said.
That felt out of place for a Clan whose leader was trying to conquer the forest.
There was a rustling in the nursery and both ThunderClan apprentices shifted back against the dirt wall, Firepaw holding his breath. He heard a voice that sounded familiar; it was Runningnose, back from the border. Except this time he didn't sound calm or "all-knowing."
"I'm sorry, Dawncloud…there's only so much I can do. Whether or not she heals is up to StarClan now."
Firepaw kept listening. There was another noise, something that sounded like soft weeping. " It's not fair, Runningnose…they're just kits. Why must Brokenstar be so demanding of them? "
Runningnose sighed. " I don't know…I've tried to dissuade him many times now, but… "
There was a beat. Then the queen spoke again. " I never asked for this. She's only four moons old, Runningnose! This madness has to end! "
" I promise you, Dawncloud…I'm doing everything I can, but Blossompaw's fate is with StarClan now. "
Woah. Firepaw shared a stunned look with Graypaw. An apprentice that was only four moons old? Surely that was too young. Surely putting kits through training that early would do nothing but work them to death.
The apprentice almost gasped. That was why Brokenstar came for the kits. Not just to send a message, but to try and train warriors as young as possible. To replace the kits that had surely failed under his cruel regiment. Even though he was soaked in the scent of trash, that was the most vile thing Firepaw could have possibly thought of. He didn't know if he was going to be sick or explode in rage.
Thankfully, he did neither. Graypaw nudged his shoulder and into view came what looked to be Cinderkit. But instead of the youthful, worrisome kit that he had seen dawdling around camp with her brother, she looked tired. Like her head was sagging forward and down, as if it were about to fall off of her neck. And even though the glimpse was brief, Firepaw could see swelling and cuts underneath her pelt.
" Great StarClan… " he whispered under his breath. Shrouded in the illusion of normalcy was the most demonic cruelty Firepaw could possibly know.
Pawsteps came near and the two apprentices quickly shifted to the other side of their hiding nook, flanks now pressed against the wall of the nursery. Cinderkit was out of sight now. All they could do was pray and use Mousefur as indication for danger. Firepaw couldn't smell the chamomile with the amount of ShadowClan burrowing into his head. He prayed that it was enough. It had to be enough.
There was still weeping in the nursery from Dawncloud, the ShadowClan queen. Soon, Cinderkit's voice joined it. "Is everything alright?"
Dawncloud sniffled. "It's Blossomkit- Blossom paw ." The she-cat sounded almost bitter that her daughter was an apprentice. "I tried to warn Brokenstar for days and…now she…"
Her weeping grew louder. Firepaw could hear a rustling in the nursery, then the ThunderClan kit spoke again, softer this time. "I'm so sorry…I wish I could do something to-"
" No, honey," insisted Dawncloud, "You shouldn't be the one apologizing…you shouldn't even be here, you poor thing…" The realization that at least some of the ShadowClan warriors disapproved of what Brokenstar was doing to the Clan was a surprise. If the ShadowClan warriors themselves thought that Cinderkit and the ThunderClan kits shouldn't be here, then what could Brokenstar have been thinking ? Surely if enough cats disagreed, then they could just stand up against the leader? Right?
It was such a question that Firepaw didn't notice that a ShadowClan warrior had seen a peculiar shadow peeking out from the side of the nursery and was coming in to investigate. By the time Firepaw realized that they were in danger…
" Oi! " Mousefur's ShadowClan accent made the apprentices jolt back to attention, noticing the warrior who was frozen mid-step, " I'm makin' dirt here. "
"Oh, my bad," said the warrior, immediately turning back into the clearing. Firepaw gave a grateful nod to Mousefur, who looked more irritated about the apprentices' lack of spatial awareness than relieved at her ploy working. The interruption had caused them to lose track of where Cinderkit was by hearing, though. Was she still in the nursery?
There was a rustle in the bush nearest to them. "What the…?" Cinderkit was right around the corner. She had seen the flowers.
Moments later, she peeked around the corner. And when she saw the two apprentices staring at her, she looked like she was about to scream.
" Shhh! Wait wait wait… " said Graypaw, hastily reaching out and yanking her behind the cover of the nursery. Desperately, Cinderkit tried to reach out and break out of the grip. " Cinderkit! It's us! "
The gray kit managed to wrench free of the apprentice's grip. " Get away from me! " she whimpered, scampering back towards the corner made between the root of the tree and the dirt wall of camp. " Who are you? "
" Cinderkit, it's us! Firepaw and Graypaw! " whispered Firepaw, " We're here to get you out of here! " The she-kit stared at each of the apprentices for a hard moment, her face slowly changing to that of confusion.
" You are? "
" Yes! " nodded Graypaw quickly, " Lionblaze sent us…he said that you'd recognize chamomile because it's your favorite flower! "
At the mention of her father, Cinderkit's eyes seemed to double in size. Immediately, her face fell and she began to break down into sobs, the noise only just muffled by Firepaw reaching over and pulling her muzzle into his chest. " I'm sorry…I tried to not let them take me, I really did… "
" StarClan, no…it's not your fault, Cinderkit…" whispered Graypaw immediately, "Your dad is just glad that you're alive. He doesn't blame you for anything."
" B-But…But Frostfur… "
" I know… " whispered Firepaw, the grip on his embrace growing. She had seen her mother die. That was the last image of ThunderClan she had to take here, " I know, Cinderkit… " The ginger tom lost the compulsion to stay urgent or vigilant - here was a kit who had not only lost her mother but had been taken from her Clan against her will. Seeing the kit tear herself apart made a deep incision on Firepaw's heart that made his entire chest burn. He only wanted to sit her and hold her, tell her that everything was going to be okay…
" Where are your siblings? " murmured the ginger tom, " Are they okay? " Cinderkit nodded. " Alright…here's what we need you to do. I need you to go back and tell your siblings that we're here to get you out of here. Gather all of your siblings while we make a hole in the wall and- "
Then he caught the scent. Far too late.
Danger. Danger. Danger.
Before Firepaw could even turn to defend himself, an unsheathed paw slashed right across his face with a WHACK! Firepaw yowled in pain, the force knocking him onto his flank. Pressing his paw to the cut, he saw Graypaw trying and failing to tousle with a menacing black-furred tom twice his size and another bracken warrior lording over him. Grinning sadistically.
Cinderkit squealed and scampered back into the corner. Firepaw tried to get up to fight but the bracken warrior slammed his paw right between his years, making his head throb and start to spin. Panic gripped his whole body. Desperately he looked to Mousefur who was surely about to jump into the fray…
Except the nook where she had been standing moments before was empty.
Mousefur was gone.
That was all Firepaw got to see before the ShadowClan brute slammed his head into the dirt, forcing his body down. He screeched, trying to kick out with all of his limbs but met nothing but air. His head was lifted up for a moment before he was slammed back down, the world rattling at the same rate his brain did.
No no no no no! Not like this! NOT LIKE THIS!
He tried to call out for Graypaw, for even Cinderkit to try and help him. But his friend was pinned down, the black tom pressing his full weight onto his throat and making him choke and gag. And the poor kit could only watch in terror.
StarClan, save me! Please! I can't die here!
" Well, well, well…what do we have here? "
The cold, crackling voice made Firepaw's body lock up in fear. The menacing scent of Brokenstar was potent enough to overpower the stench of carrionplace coating his own body. He didn't even need to look back to see the ShadowClan leader's eyes burning into him, watching with amused surprise at their failed plan to break out the kits.
"Caught them trying to smuggle her out, Brokenstar," growled the black warrior with a grin so vivid that it warped his voice, "I never thought they'd actually try and do it, the morons…"
" Indeed…this boldness is quite unexpected… " The ShadowClan leader leaned in to inspect the ginger tom, making Firepaw do nothing but quiver in fear. He was going to die here, he was sure of it.
" Well, i must commend you on your boldness… " snarled Brokenstar coldly into his ear, " It's a shame that it will only result in the expedited demise of those you came for… "
"NO! NO, DON'T! PLEASE!" Instantly, Firepaw jerked and thrashed against the grip of the tom pinning his head to the ground, "DON'T HURT HER! PLEASE!"
Brokenstar stepped over him, a step closer to the terrified Cinderkit. "CINDERKIT! CINDERKIT, RUN! YOU HAVE TO RUN! CINDERKIT-"
Then his head was lifted and slammed to the ground once more, and the world went black.
Firepaw didn't know how long he was out. An hour? A day? Weeks? It was dark when his eyes slowly opened up. Nearly pitch black here.
The first thing he felt was rain. The pitter-patter of a gentle downpour on his fur. Then came the stench, the all-too-familiar repulsive scent of the Thunderpath alongside the dim neon lights of red and blue and green the brought harsh color to the alley. The same alley he had walked and fought so many times in his dreams. But this wasn't how the dream started. This felt different.
Usually there was the roaring undercurrent of monsters prowling nearby, but instead there was silence in the city. Nothing but the gentle fall of rain and the sound of water trickling underground past the rusty metal grates. The ginger tom, illuminated in a brilliant purple hue that looked repulsive against his dirtied orange fur, raised his head from where he was splayed out in the middle of the Thunderpath.
There was a cat staring at him from the sidewalk. But while it usually took only a few moments to learn who would be terrorizing his nightmare that particular night, Firepaw couldn't make out who it was. They were shrouded in shadow, even their eyes looking desaturated beyond recognition. They didn't look to be much taller than him, nor more imposing than him. Yet the way they stared at him made the ginger tom feel deeply unsettled.
This was a new dream. One he didn't know the ending to.
"Who are you?" murmured Firepaw, sitting up on his flank. It was uncomfortable, being able to hear himself speak so clearly in a city that used to try so hard to drown out his voice. The figure didn't answer, didn't even move. "Who are you?" the tom's voice seemed to echo across the walls of the alley that stretched into the sky.
"Was it worth it?"
The voice came from behind him. Firepaw whipped around and saw his mother, Quince, looking down at him. Her eyes were duller and her face was more slack, as if she were talking in her sleep. Instantly, the ginger tom's legs began to quiver and he lowered himself, stepping away.
"Was it worth it, Rusty?"
He hated the way her eyes bore down on him. A perfect mix of scorn and contempt that she had perhaps been holding inside her for years. Nothing about Quince looked motherly. She looked not like a mother talking to her son but a victim talking to her murderer in death. There was no anger. Instead, there was only the hope that he was suffering beyond comprehension.
"No…why are you here?" whispered Firepaw, taking another step back.
"You had it all, Rusty. I gave you everything," snarled Quince, "I gave you food. I gave you shelter. I gave you everything you needed to survive. And yet you decided to throw it all away. Destroy the lives of your family just for your own glorious fantasy. All for three moons of frolicking around before getting the life beaten out of you as if I taught you NOTHING."
Firepaw tried so hard not to give in to the dread and the shame. But he couldn't. "Now look at you…the great and powerful Firepaw…barely even eleven moons old yet you had the world at your clawtips. And what did you do? You threw that away, too. Just like you did to us. Because that's all you can do, isn't it?"
"No…No, I swear, I-"
Firepaw blinked and suddenly Quince was less than an inch away, staring right into his fearful green eyes. The ginger tom yelped and scrambled back, towards the curb where the shadowed figure stood watching. "I'll ask again. Was it worth it, Rusty? Throwing everything away for this?"
He was shaking now. Shaking as if he were a kit under his mother's cold, spiteful glare. "No…" he whispered, "No, it wasn't…"
Quince simply sneered.
"You disgust me."
The words cut through him like thorns. Firepaw felt as if he were being ripped open and squeezed dry of everything that made him alive. He wilted before his mother, looking down in shame. Unable to even face her and accept everything that he'd done. He'd destroyed her life and it was all for nothing.
"It didn't have to be this way."
Another voice. Firepaw looked past Quince and saw Princess, her tabby brown pelt clean and well-groomed. She looked nothing like the cat he had known her to be - the she-cat looked well fed and free from the grip of anxiety that had a hold on him and his litter since the day they were born. She looked content, yet still looked down on her brother with a face of bitter disappointment. "I tried to tell you to walk away. I followed you in the rain and I took care of you when no one else wanted to. And you threw it all away for this. "
"No…" Firepaw was whimpering like a kit. "Please…that's not what I-"
"Don't try to weasel your way out of this one," said Princess coldly, "You fooled me once into taking pity on you. I won't make that mistake again. I should have left you to die after what you did, anyways."
"No…you don't understand-"
"Enough!" Quince cut through whatever the young ginger tom was going to say with a vicious tone, "I have had moons to understand, you sick bastard. Moons of wondering where I went wrong. Trying to find when I wasn't raising someone who could do something so…unthinkable."
There was another figure near, up the Thunderpath from where they were congregated. Firepaw looked and felt his stomach turn when he saw the corpse of a dark brown tabby tom with a white belly not unlike Princess. Yet his corpse was crumbled and coated in blood that spilled out onto the asphalt and splattered onto the sidewalk.
Firepaw didn't even need to look and see how his face had been crushed, how his spine had shattered and jutted awkwardly against the skin on his back or how the wheel of the monster had crushed the bottom half of his body. Because he had already seen it. He knew.
"How could you do this to us…?" Quince growled, voice wavering in tortured grief. "You ruined my life - OUR lives over this…and it was all for nothing…"
"No…I don't…"
Firepaw looked around wildly. Cats were surrounding him, cats that he recognized. Luna, Filou, Ferris, Socks…yet there was not a single drop of personality or anything distinctive beyond their unique pelts. They all looked down at him with disdain, with disgust.
"Stop…please, you have to listen-"
"No. We will never listen to anything you have to say ever again."
There was no remorse in his mother's eyes. Nothing motherly, not even a drop of sympathy or empathy. The eyes that bore into him had been hollowed out in grief and filled to the brim with bitter hatred for her own son. There was no one and there would be no one that would hate Firepaw more than his own mother.
"You mean nothing to me."
Something in Firepaw shattered. He didn't know if this was a dream anymore. It all felt so, so real.
"NO! PLEASE! MOM, PLEASE! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME! DON'T LEAVE ME! PLEASE! "
One by one, his family began to turn away. Walking in any which way, as long as they were all away from him. Firepaw couldn't even bring himself to stand and chase after any of them. The very foundation of his spirit of fight in the field where he was grown, that which he had not properly known or expressed his love for in his entire life, was leaving him forever. And all he could do was scream into silence.
He screamed and wailed and pleaded. The white light of the monster approached as they retreated further and further into the alley, and Firepaw didn't even try to dodge or jump out of the way. His voice carried in echoes through the alley until the white enveloped him whole…
But there was no moment of impact. Though the screaming stopped, Firepaw looked around and saw not the camp of ShadowClan or ThunderClan but a massive clearing with a forest surrounding him.
The ginger tom turned. There was a massive tree and it was burning. Smoke billowed where there would be trees, tainting the picturesque blue sky with burling black fumes. He knew this place. The memory had been taken from him, what he had encountered when he had touched his nose to the Moonstone. All of a sudden, it was filled back in.
Yet he didn't feel empowered or enlightened. He felt empty. He stared at the tree with disdain, the vision poisoned by the looks of his family.
"I was wrong about you."
Firepaw looked to his right. The shadowy figure was in just the position that they had been in before, but this time there was nothing to obscure the tortoiseshell pelt and bright amber eyes of Spottedleaf. The apprentice initially prepared to be berated and ripped apart, but her eyes glittered not with judgment, but with pity.
"When I first realized the prophecy was about you…well, I was originally angry. Because I thought that surely…surely a sheltered kittypet who simply had a brazen and misguided fire in his chest to fight was not worthy of a divine gift. But…everything I've learned has only taught me that you have had to fight to even find ThunderClan."
Firepaw sighed, looking down at his paws. "So what? I'm supposed to be the savior of ThunderClan and I can't even save our own kits…I'm useless. It was all for nothing."
"You speak as if you are dead. As if you have lost all opportunities to bring down Brokenstar."
"Haven't I?"
Spottedleaf drew closer. Even being close to her brought a wave of comfort over him, and Firepaw wanted her to embrace him and fill the hole that his mother had just abandoned forever. "Well, Yellowfang would say that she told you so…but Brokenstar has not struck you down. He's using you as bait, trying to get Bluestar to surrender control to assure the safety of both you and Graypaw. I knew this, Runningnose knew this…and StarClan knew this, too."
Firepaw thought that he would feel overwhelming comfort hearing his own medicine cat talk about how nothing was happening that was not foreseen. But even the sight of the burning tree that foretold his blossoming power and destiny only made him ache more. "I never asked for this. I never wanted to have the weight of the world on my shoulders, Spottedleaf. I just wanted to fight for something…I-"
He gulped.
"I just wanted to mean something."
"And you think that you don't?"
Firepaw sighed. He did mean something to others and he was fighting for ThunderClan. But this time, there was no vague vision of glory tied to it. The future was murky and uncertain. He didn't want that future. Perhaps that was always his future. Perhaps he had never had a choice.
"May I tell you something?"
Even if he wanted to say no, Firepaw couldn't have. He sighed and shrugged, looking sadly out over the smoky plains.
"Your destiny…while it is not simple, it is long. And though there will be trials of suffering you go through, there will be good times as well. You will know when these good times come and you will cherish them and love them. They will make you feel happy. At home. And they will build you up and make you feel like you really have something to fight for."
Firepaw didn't believe it. He couldn't believe it, not after everything that had happened. "How can you possibly say that?"
Spottedleaf gave a gentle smile, bringing out the ethereal details of her presence. How she gently glowed in the daylight and stood out amidst the smoke-tinted air. "Does one heal from battle wounds by receiving more wounds? StarClan know who they picked to prophesize, Firepaw. And they know that if your life was just suffering, then you would never have it in you to keep fighting for as long as they need you to fight."
"But…how much longer?" He felt weak and feeble, like he wasn't that much different from a helpless kit begging for his mother. "I can't keep doing this for much longer…"
Spottedleaf bent down a bit to meet him at his eye level. "You know I can't tell you that. But we both know that you'll never see it…if you don't wake up."
The crackling of the flames made Firepaw's ears tilt back. Spottedleaf began to back away, retreating further and further as his vision blurred with smoke that blocked out the light of the sun and the forest around him. "This is your destiny, Firepaw. Perhaps all that is left for you to do is to stop running in fear…and let it consume you."
Firepaw didn't call out for the medicine cat. He simply watched as she moved farther and farther away and out of sight. The flames were catching on the grass and spreading. But the smoke did not burn his eyes and the heat was not scorching, but gentle and warm. Slowly, his eyes closed with the cacophony of crackling flame…
His mind wasn't clear - it was a bubbling pile of torn memories and poisoned thoughts. But up to the surface came a thought so clear that Firepaw felt like it could write itself on his pelt and consume him whole.
"A FOREST MUST BURN BEFORE IT BRINGS FORTH NEW LIFE.
LIKE A WILDFIRE, YOU WILL BLAZE THROUGH THE FOREST.
THIS IS YOUR DESTINY."
" Firepaw! "
Firepaw gasped awake, his body still tense and ready to fight back when he suddenly came to. Instantly, he felt forearms wrap around him and Graypaw's scent cut through his anxiety to calm him. It was lighter here, but the sky was blocked and only letting in remedial light here. They were in some den, still in ShadowClan the way it reeked of carrion and bad intentions.
"Where are we?" hissed Firepaw, looking around wildly.
"I don't know…but we're still in camp," said the apprentice breathlessly, "Thank StarClan you're okay…I thought that we were goners…"
The ginger tom's head throbbed on cue and he groaned, grabbing at his forehead and wincing. The world did seem a lot blurrier than it had moments before, as if there was a sheet of smoke covering it, but in a glance to the entrance of the den Firepaw could see at least two cats guarding the entrance. They were trapped here with no way out.
Everything that could have gone wrong had gone wrong. He felt completely hopeless - surely they were just being held so they could be killed at the best possible moment. Probably when ThunderClan arrived.
Killing the chosen one. What a statement that would be.
He didn't want to look at Graypaw. He didn't want to risk seeing the pain on his face from knowing his death was imminent. Instead the ginger tom stared outside, between the two guards and into the camp. It looked cold and desaturated, like there was no life outside even though he could hear the anxious murmurs beyond the walls of the den. The outside looked as empty as he felt.
Soon, that hollowness began to fill with despair. He thought of Mousefur and how she had disappeared when they had been cornered. He thought of the queen that Cinderkit had talked to, how she had lost her daughter because of Brokenstar. How the torturous reign that the leader had on ShadowClan was so clearly unfair, yet the cats in the clearing had the audacity to talk about prey and the weather like life was still normal.
He didn't remember everything that had happened when he was unconscious, everything that he had heard and seen. But he remembered bits and pieces. The fire that was burning in his chest. How in the throes of deep despair…was a call for him to keep fighting. And as he stared at the ShadowClan cats, he felt a surge of anger ignite inside of him.
"Bet you feel really great, huh?" he snarled in the direction of the cats blocking the entrance. They didn't respond, not even with a twitch of their ears. "How many kits has he killed, then? How many have died because you put them to work so early? How many days have you gone about your life like absolutely nothing was happening? Knowing that kits are dying and you're doing nothing to stop them? I bet your mothers are so cussing proud of you right now."
Firepaw expected Graypaw to try and stop him, but he didn't move from his spot. He squinted - one of the guards looked older. "How about you?" he snapped, "Is life better now under that prick? Do you feel happy knowing you're about to take the whole forest? Are you happy with all of the blood that he's spilled to do it? The great and mighty ShadowClan, where we kill mothers and pry the kits from their corpses! How honorable and noble of you. "
This was not anger. Truthfully, Firepaw couldn't bring himself to full unload his anger here, not in front of those worthless scumbags. He could only taunt and try to goad out a response. He couldn't just sit here idle until his death came. Still did the guards not turn to acknowledge him, so the apprentice pressed closer, his fangs slipping out. "I bet you were there, weren't you? You were there when you invaded our camp. When you broke through our nursery and took our kits. When you killed their mother in cold blood. Did it feel good, knowing you took their mother away from them? Anything for dominance, right? Is that right, you bastard-"
" Enough! " The guard on the right - a youngish she-cat Firepaw didn't recognize from the battle, jumped towards him and hissed, making the apprentice back away. " Say another word and I'll make a crack at your limbs before Brokenstar can. " The other guard didn't meet his partner's aggression, but his head was bowed. Maybe he was crying. Firepaw hoped he was crying.
Time passed - it could have been minutes or hours and Firepaw would have had no idea. But eventually the scent of ThunderClan grew more and more potent. He could hear the ShadowClan warriors' voices rise. A voice cried out "Battle positions!" There was shuffling and commands and raking of claws on stone. The world was preparing itself except for him.
This didn't feel like a war. This felt like an execution.
The realization that he could pick out everyone that had come on the patrol with confidence compared to how lost and overstimulated he was on the first journey to camp usually would have given him a boost of confidence. Now it felt like a sick joke. It was all for what? He had finally trained himself to be a Clanmate and this was the reward. And frankly, he didn't even know if StarClan would be where he went when he died.
Bluestar and Brokenstar's voices rang out in counterpoint. Even when the words were incomprehensible could Firepaw feel the snarl in her voice rippling along his ginger pelt. Then Brokenstar's voice rose and moments later, both guards turned into the cave and approached the prisoners.
" Let's go, " snarled the younger she-cat. The older tom was not gentle in how he handled Graypaw, but he pointedly avoided Firepaw's glances as they were escorted out of the den and into the clearing to face his Clan.
Gasps from the ThunderClan army and jeering from the ShadowClan cats filled the air of the camp. Firepaw kept his head down and at the ground, feeling the piercing stare of all of his Clanmates staring at him in shock. "These two young toms…well, I certainly applaud their guts. But I did not appreciate when I caught them sneaking into camp and trying to maliciously manipulate one of our own kits into coming with them back to ThunderClan."
Roars of fury swelled up in the ShadowClan crowd. "That's not true! Cinderkit-" Graypaw was cut off before he could finish by the old tom slamming his muzzle into the ground and smothering him. Firepaw glanced up at Bluestar, praying that there was some plan that she had where he read her eyes and performed some brilliant tactic that would help him and Graypaw escape.
But there was no plan. There was nothing but bitter, bitter disappointment in her eyes as she looked away from him. It was the look of someone who believed that the person they cared for was a failure. A disgrace.
His mentor had lost all faith in him.
The hopelessness that swelled through the apprentice's chest nearly caused him to gag and wail in despair. "Allow me to put this into perspective for you, my dear friend," Brokenstar pushed on, striding towards the ThunderClan leader as if he were taking a leisurely walk on a bright and sunny day, "I offered you a deal. A deal to work together in harmony just for one battle, in exchange for us not 'touching a blade of grass' on your side of the border. You turned that deal down, citing the 'honor' you have to upheld. This is where your honor has led you. I hope you look back on today and realize that this all could have been so simple…if you had just been willing to play in the mud for a little bit. "
" ThunderClan would never work for you, Brokenstar, " snarled Bluestar, voice so hushed and in conflict with despair that it wavered heavily, " Not when all you seek to do is disrupt everything we've made all for yourself. "
" Mmm. And look where that's gotten you. "
Firepaw looked out over the ThunderClan cats. Some glared at Brokenstar and the ShadowClan cats with earned hatred and venom. Others…well, hearing of the deal that Bluestar had turned down was making them vastly uncomfortable and unwilling to vocalize their support. The leader herself didn't move to meet Brokenstar's taunting glare or the eyes of any of her Clanmates. She was deep in her own head.
"But I do respect you, Bluestar. I said it before and I will say it again. So I'm willing to give you a choice." Brokenstar brushed his tail along Bluestar's flank as if they were old friends, making the ThunderClan cats shiver in disgust. " Surrender your territory, here and now, and I will give your Clan amnesty to leave the territory unharmed. That, or face me one on one. Leader against leader, until one of us drops dead for the final time. A true showcase of if you are as worthy of a leader to stand against us as you so desperately want to be. "
The ThunderClan warriors erupted in protest. "Fight us, you coward! " " We'll kick your ass! " " Stop trying to hide! " Brokenstar didn't move to silence them or his own Clan as they retorted with hisses and spitting. The noise crept higher and higher, mounting pressure on Bluestar's shoulders as the maligned leader simply stared her down with a calm, collected composure.
Brokenstar was more ready for a duel that Bluestar would ever be. And it wouldn't be a fair fight either - Bluestar had lost more lives than Brokenstar had. Either way, there was no way that the ThunderClan leader seemingly had a chance to take him down.
The shouting match started to fizzle out in the leaders' mutual silence. Bluestar continued to not meet Brokenstar's eyes and the latter simply waited patiently for her to break. Not a single cat had ordered the rest to quiet down - they were now just out of threats and waiting on Bluestar's word.
Slowly, she sighed. Her shoulders sagged and horror filled Firepaw whole. She was going to do it. She was actually going to…
" I'll do it. "
Everyone in ShadowClan's camp turned to the voice. Emerging from the pack was Lionheart, eyes burning. Brokenstar looked caught off guard, raising an eyebrow at the golden tom as he broke free from the group of ThunderClan and walked closer and closer and closer to the ShadowClan leader. Until he stood not an inch away from his muzzle.
Bluestar looked over at her deputy, ears moved back in surprise. "Lionheart?"
"I'm sorry, my friend," said the tom calmly, "But I've been wanting this for a long time."
Golden eyes burning bright, Lionheart looked at the ShadowClan leader fearlessly. "Brokenstar, on behalf of ThunderClan and with StarClan as my witness, I challenge you to a fight to the death. "
a/n:chapter twenty-two will be released on september 25th.